


renegades

by romajstorovic



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 07:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16012856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romajstorovic/pseuds/romajstorovic
Summary: the kingdom of araluen finds itself in both awe and fear of a thief known only as 'the renegade'. this man can perform feats ordinary men can only dream of, and to make matters worse, his motivation is a robin hood-esque sense of justice.will treaty has four weeks to find this man before he is hanged. something is wrong in araluen, and the renegade is merely the start.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> whoooooo I'm excited, I've been working on bits of this for a while and it's all coming together!!

Will wakes up to a wet nose pressing itself into his cheek. It's Shadow, he realises, as she starts licking his face.

"Gerroff," Will grunts, pushing the dog away from his face. He sits up and starts to run his hands through her long coat, grinning as she rolls over. "Why'd you wake me up, hey? It's not time yet."

She responds by licking his hand, then jumping off the bed and running towards the door. Will notices the shadow of someone standing by it, and is immediately both curious and wary. He's not expecting visitors.

Ignoring the thunderous pattering from the deluge of rain outside, Will tries to hear movements from the figure. He's wary, but not too concerned, as Shadow hasn't tried to rip the visitor's head from their neck.

Will opens the door to a drenched and panicked Gilan. He forces his way past Will, shaking and wrapping his cloak ever tighter around himself. "Took you long enough," Gilan says, an attempt at a grin on his lips.

Will's never seen his friend look so scared before. Gilan is shaking and wild-eyed, a huge change from the composed and knowledgeable Ranger he usually is. He's got no idea what's shaken Gilan so much, but it can't be good.

"Coffee?" Will asks, having learned from Malcolm that hot drinks help calm people down.

"Like I need to shake more," Gilan laughs weakly. "I'll have some if there's some on the go, but don't make any especially for me."

"I just woke up," Will explains, "so I haven't made any, but I'm about to."

"Thank you," Gilan says, and Will knows he's far more grateful for the simple drink than he really should be.

"What's got you so shaken?" Will asks. He takes the clay pot of coffee beans from the shelf and spoons some into another pot, which he fills with water and puts on the unlit fire.

Gilan looks up from where he's sitting against a wall, hands in Shadow's fur.

"Storm," Gilan replies, embarrassed. "It's loud and the lightening is..."

He doesn't finish. Will knows what he means- the storms in Araluen are notorious for being aggressive. Not quite as bad as some of the ones he's been through on Erak's wolfship, but close.

"I didn't know you were scared of storms," Will muses.

"Neither did Blaze, apparently," Gilan laughs.

The two men are silent as Will finishes making the coffee. He hands a steaming mug to his friend, keeping the other for himself.

A sudden, yellow flash of light forces its way through the gaps between the wooden shutters of Will's cabin. Gilan flinches, swearing quietly as he spills the near-boiling liquid on his fingers. He quivers, more vulnerable than Will has ever seen him. When the deep rumble of thunder comes a few seconds later, he outright whimpers.

Will doesn't know how to calm his friend. He sips at his coffee- it's still too hot to drink- and watches Gilan focus all his attention on Shadow.

 _He's trying to distract himself,_ Will realises. He stands up and retrieves his mandola, holding it proudly aloft as he steps back into the small kitchen. Gilan groans in mock horror, before grinning.

"Still got the lute?" He jokes, and sways back to avoid Will's annoyed slap, even though they're on opposite sides of the room.

"I'll have you know that I'm a very successful and well known musician," Will grins.

"You and the lute make a fine pair." Gilan raises an eyebrow and cocks his head as he waits for Will's reaction. Will sighs and starts to tune his mandola, fingers playing a small melody to test the strings.

"Go on then," Gilan grins, leaning back against the wall. He stretches his legs out in front of him and puts his hands behind his head. Shadow rests her snout on his crossed ankles. "Serenade me."

"As you wish," Will smirks, and begins to play a soft melody, low and rapid, gradually getting louder as he plucks the strings with more force. He stops, and takes a quick drag from his coffee before starting the piece from the beginning.

This time, instead of a crescendo, he starts to sing along. He's been practicing, so he hopes his voice isn't too terrible.

 _"Take my hand, we're off to lands of silver and gold,"_ he sings. The song is slow and has a menacing undertone. It's one Will wrote, so he has no idea how it'll be received.

_"And memories that aren't mine to hold,_

_"I will lead you into the Neverland,_

_"Please, come take a poor sinner's hand,_

_"Forgive me for all of my failures,_

_"I want to go to Neverland._

_"I want to be where the sunset shines,_

_"And my sunrise memories fade away,_

_"Lord above, you've forsaken me,_

_"Tell the Sunrise Girl I'm where she fears to be."_

He pauses singing to play a bridge, one that took him weeks to compose. Weeks in which archery and hunting were his only jobs, and music was his reprieve. He smiles wryly as he realises that everything he does involves strings. His fingers are calloused, and he thinks it's only a matter of time before they become useless.

_"My love's afraid that she is lost,_

_"Somewhere that I will never find her,_

_"Sunrise Girl, sugar words,_

_"Those fleet of foot find her crying,_

_"We weep in silhouetted silence,_

_"Over lands of silver and gold,_

_"Sunrise Girl, take my sinning hand,_

_"We're off to search for Neverland."_

Will plays the bridge and the chorus again before looking up at his friend. Gilan has his eyes closed, a look of wonder and contentment in his face.

Will finishes playing, striking a slow chord to match the rest of his song.

"Consider yourself serenaded," he jokes. Gilan opens one eye and yawns before nodding.

"I will do."

Will itches to ask how the performance was. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to work out how to ask the question without leaving an opening for one of Gilan's snarky comments.

"Close your mouth, you look like a fish," Gilan quips. Will sighs, annoyed with himself for giving his friend that opportunity.

"Was it any good?" Will blurts, unable to hold his question back. He's annoyed to discover he hasn't changed as much as he thought in the past few years.

"Your serenading?" Gilan asks. "Terrible. Ear-splittingly awful. I've never heard anything like it."

"Pull the other one," Will laughs. "Really, how was it?"

"Honestly? I've never heard anything like it. It's incredible. Who taught you that?"

"I wrote it," Will admits, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Really?" Gilan asks, surprised. "You wrote that?"

"Yeah." Will laughs awkwardly. "I got bored one day."

"That's bloody brilliant," Gilan exclaims. "I had no idea you could write like that."

"Neither did I," Will laughs, leaning backwards against the wall. He places his mandola to his side on the floor and pushes Shadow's nose away as she leaves Gilan's legs to inspect the instrument.

"Take that down to Jenny's restaurant, I'm sure she'd let you play there," Gilan suggests.

"Not a chance," Will laughs again. "She'd let me, sure, but I'd rather not."

They sit in comfortable almost-silence until the storm passes, making small talk when the lightening flashes and the thunder rumbles. Eventually, Will asks the question he's been aching to ask since he realised it was Gilan behind his door.

"Why are you here?"

He wasn't expecting to see his friend. He's curious and a little worried- Gilan shouldn't be here.

"What? Oh yeah. I have something for you. I thought I'd come down and tell you in person because it gave me an excuse get away from the paperwork. Also, I got to see Jenny, which was nice." Gilan blushes slightly, and Will grins.

"Of course that's why you came," Will smirks. "Wait, you have something for me?"

"Yep. You're aware of the man who calls himself 'The Renegade'?"

It's a rhetorical question. Even if Will's duties as a ranger didn't mean that he has to know about men like him, he'd know anyway. The Renegade is a man who brought himself to infamy very rapidly by 'redistributing wealth'. He reminds Will of a hooded figure he'd heard in a story when he was a child, but he doubts that they both know the same tale.

"Obviously."

"He's spreading to all over Araluen. You're one of the most capable, if not _the_ most capable, rangers we have. So far, nobody else has been able to find him. Apparently he's been hiding up in Gorlan Fief somewhere, near the ruins of Morgarath's castle, but as soon as we heard that he struck in Araluen Fief. It's chaos. He's impossible to find."

Gilan sighs, annoyed, and rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb. Will knows how unhappy the other Rangers are with this Renegade, and he'll admit he's not too pleased either, but for no Ranger to be able to find one man?

"I'll find him," Will promises.

"Good, because he's planning to attack Redmont."


	2. one

Will frowns. "Where was he, last you heard of him?"

"Araluen." Gilan sighs. "Look, we know next to nothing. All we know is what he's told us. Here." He hands Will a thick linen envelope, addressed to one 'Ranger Commandant'. Will opens the battered envelope and pulls out the parchment inside.

He studies it before reading. The parchment is old, over a year old, he'd guess. It's relatively clean, although there are coffee stains and wet fingerprints along the bottom corner. The letter only covers one side of the parchment, and the other is blank. Will checks the envelope itself. There's nothing unusual about it.

"Where was this?" Will asks, holding the folded letter.

"Where Cassandra's jewellery box should have been. Also missing were Madelyn's favourite bracelets and a large amount of gold."

"How much?"

"Far more than one man should have been able to carry. Around a year's wages for six or seven servants, right out of Cassandra's personal coffers."

Will lets out a low whistle as he meets Gilan's serious gaze. "That's impressive," he admits.

"It is. It's also a mark of the man's danger. We have no idea who he is or how he managed to get into Castle Araluen without being seen. He's untraceable. Anyway, you need to read that letter."

Will opens it up, staring at the neat print. The ink is blue, which isn't too significant, but the lettering is. This person knows how to read and write, and very well.

_Dear Commandant,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health. It's much more fun that way._

_Let me start by introducing myself. My name is Renegade, and I am a man who has some very strong opinions, particularly about the gentry and the distribution of wealth in Araluen._

_You are not my problem. My quarrel is with the monarchy and the nobility. You see, I am not rich._

_I grew up poor and starving, working my fingers until they were calloused and bleeding trying to get enough money to buy medicine for my ailing mother. I worked myself almost to death to buy help for her, and your kingdom's tax collectors took it all. My mother died, and I took a sword and fell on it, unable to hope any longer. My name is Margaret_ _Repton_ _._

_I am a father. I work for sixteen hours a day, slaving in the mines to bring as much coal as I can. Every month the quota grows, and if I do not mine enough I am beaten and starved. I have no money, and after these gruelling hours of back breaking work, when my shoulders scream and my lungs are filled with coal dust, I set out to work for the night in a tavern._

_I have enough money to feed my two daughters. No more. I cut my own firewood, I built my own house, I raised my family. Then soldiers come, bearing Duncan's sigil. They spend the night in my tavern, drinking until they cannot stand. They stagger back to my house, and I return late in the morning to hear my daughters screaming. The men pass my girls, barely nineteen, around, and when I try to stop them, one of the soldiers snaps my neck. My name is David Slater._

_I starve every day. Meanwhile, your barons grow fat and happy, ignoring me and others as we grow thinner and die in front of them. My name is Lorna Kane._

_My name is Harriet Baker._

_My name is Gillian Baker. I am Harriet's baby daughter, barely three weeks when I am orphaned. I am barely six weeks when I die._

_My name is the Renegade. I am all of these people, yet none. These people all died because the nobility, those who gorge themselves on food all day and night, those who drink until they fall asleep at their tables, those who want for nothing, think we are beneath them because we are born under different circumstances._

_I will tolerate this no longer. I steal from those who would not miss their money and I give it to those who need it. Cassandra does not need this jewellery, and the money I have taken is not even a fraction of what she has. It is not hurting her._

_The money I have taken will feed a starving village for decades. I have done this for so many people. I am the hero of the poor, yet the rich despise me. I do not care._

_My next target is Baron_ _Arald_ _of Redmont Fief._

_Catch me if you can, Ranger._

"Well, that's cheerful," Will mutters.

"Definitely. I have to say, this Renegade seems to be very set on his path. I don't like it. I want him alive, if possible." Gilan's eyes are dark.

"What's wrong?" Will asks.

"The man named there, David Slater. I knew him and his daughters. Their names are Alyssia and Holly. Pretty girls. Nice girls. Good people, all three of them. I had no idea this had happened to them. I want this Renegade caught, and then I'm going after the bastards who killed David."

"You won't find them. This happened years ago," Will points out. "Look how old the paper is. He's been planning this attack for so long."

"So why tell us? Is it a distraction? This makes no sense. Arald was notified as soon as we could get a letter to him. There are twice as many guards on duty now. Everyone's focus is on him. So where would this Renegade _really_ be attacking?" Gilan asks, frustrated. He runs his hands through his hair and sighs.

"We need you, Will."

"You've got me. I'll start right away. Any indication of when the attack will be?"

"None," Gilan sighs gloomily. "I know as much as you."

"Right," says Will. "I guess I'm on my own?"

Gilan nods. "We can't spare anyone else. I'm sorry."

Will grunts. "S'okay. I'll find him."

Gilan stands, shrugging his cloak into his shoulders. "Thanks, Will," he says. He looks like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and Will smiles.

"Anytime. You going?"

"I have to. Sorry."

"It's okay. Do what you have to." Will embraces his friend, and before he realises it, Gilan is gone.

Will rubs his eyes, sitting down. His first move is to go to Baron Arald and see what he knows, if anything. From there, he'll try to work out a pattern in the location of the heists and lie in wait for this elusive thief.

His mind is racing at a million miles an hour trying to outthink this man. He runs through a list of all he knows: the man has been planning his attacks for a long time; he's not afraid to go public with his plans, which means he's confident; and he's impossible to find.

 _Difficult,_ Will reminds himself. _Not impossible. Nothing is impossible if you try hard enough. Except maybe turning into a bird._

He runs his fingers through his dog's fur and sighs. He should leave as soon as possible, but he doesn't want to. He grins ruefully. "This is what I signed up for," he tells Shadow. She wags her tail in response, and rolls over.

***

 

Will stands facing the Baron, hands clasped behind his back.

  
"You want to spend the next however long locked in a where?" Arald asks, confused.

"The next week or two, maybe longer, and where you keep your money. May I make a suggestion?" Will asks.

"Go ahead."

"Move the gold. Take it out of where it's usually kept. Keep it secret. Post the usual number of guards outside both rooms. I'll be in the room where the gold really is." Will explains.

"Why? You think that this Renegade will know about the change?" Arald asks, sitting down.

"Almost certainly. Secrets have a habit of becoming rumours, and this man seems to be very good at finding the truth of rumours. It's uncanny."

"How are you going to go unnoticed in there for two weeks?" Arald asks. "Take food and water with you?"

"Yes, Sir. Also, a-"

"Sir! Sir!" A frazzled servant bursts into the room. "It's gone! Most of our gold reserves just went missing! Nobody saw who it was! And- and-"

"And?" Will asks quietly.

"They have Lady Sandra," the servant admits, turning his face away from the two. "She's gone."

Another servant bursts into the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt, my Lord," she says, and hurriedly curtseys. She hands Arald an envelope. "This was left by a man who said it was urgent. It was urgent enough for him to put a knife next to my throat," she frowns. Arald passes the letter to Will.

"It's for you," he says curtly. "Excuse me." He's gone before Will can say anything.

"Do you need anything, my Lord?" The first servant asks.

"I'm no Lord," Will smiles. "I'm good, thank you. Thank you both for this information. Do you know when the attack happened?"

"Within the last hour, my- Sir," the lady answers, back straight. "I spoke to the Lady Sandra myself just before she went to the kitchens."

"Did she get there?" Will asks, looking up from the linen envelope he's turning over and over.

"I don't know, Sir."

"Okay. Both of you are free to go," Will smiles, and the two leave, shuddering a little after being so close to the famed Ranger.

The envelope Will holds is identical to the last one, except for who it is addressed to. This one is not addressed to the Commandant, but to him. He tears it open and starts to read.

_Will Treaty,_

_I'm sure you've read my previous letter- the one from Castle Araluen. If so, you know who I am._

_I'm not a cruel man. The Lady Sandra has not been harmed in any way, and she is under my personal protection. She is, at the moment, what I will call insurance. Meet me tonight at midnight by the old oak tree in the forest. Come alone. The Lady Sandra shall not be harmed unless you bring others._

_Do not tell Arald. I'll know if you do._

_I hope to see you there._

The letter is unsigned, yet Will knows who it's from. The script is identical, as are the parchment and envelope. No clues there. He looks out of the window to see the sun beginning to set. He knows exactly where he has to be, so he starts walking.


	3. two

Will sits in a tree several meters away from the old oak. He has his bow in his hand, an arrow already nocked. He remains unmoving, searching silently for any sign of Lady Sandra. So far, there is nothing. The most interesting thing he's seen is a squirrel punch a bird.

He hears footsteps on his left and slowly turns, eyes scanning the trees. He sees a man in a brown cloak, accompanied by a woman is a woollen gray one. She trips, and he steadies her. The man guides the woman to the oak tree and takes off his cloak, using it to cover the root on which the woman sits. She takes down her hood and Will's suspicions are confirmed: it's Lady Sandra. She seems unhurt, although Will can't be sure.

The man straightens and steps away from her, before looking directly into the tree where Will is. He can see the man wears a cloth tied over his nose, obscuring the lower half of his face. His hands are behind his back, and he stands with his shoulders square. He looks confident, even arrogant. Will dislikes that.

The man lifts one hand up and pulls the mask over his nose so it hangs around his neck. He looks at Will and tilts his head to the side.

"I trust you came alone?" He asks, voice carrying clearly. "You can come down now, Will Treaty. Don't be shy."

Will's eyes widen a little in shock. There is no way the man can see him. No way at all.

"Will Treaty, please come down," the man says. "I do know you're there, I can see you. I will admit, you're rather difficult to see. It would be impossible for any other person to see you."

Will drops out of the tree, anger on his face. The man smiles, looking at Will. "Join us," the man says, gesturing to Lady Sandra. "Keep your bow, but I suspect you won't need it."

The man sits next to the Lady, who seems calmer than Will expected. She smiles at Will in greeting. "I'm unhurt," she reassures him. "For a kidnapper, this man is very polite."

"I'm hurt, my Lady," the man gasps, mock offended. He places a hand on his heart, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I'm merely a thief; kidnapping someone isn't something I enjoy doing. I would never harm someone. I'm not that cruel."

"Let her go," Will instructs, voice low and angry. He runs his fingertips over his arrows, his meaning clear. _Let her go, or I shoot you before you stand._

"Of course," the man agrees, leaning back. " _After_ you and I talk. I give you my word that she will go free."

"You're a criminal, your word means nothing," Will hisses.

"Is helping those in need a crime, dear Ranger? I simply do what those with money are too selfish to do. You are familiar with the tale of Robin of Locksley?"

Will nods, apprehensive about where this conversation will lead.

"Do you think that he really deserved to be hanged? Because that is exactly what will happen to me, and I have done nothing that Robin of Locksley did not, save for the kidnapping. About that I am extremely sorry, but I needed to know you would come alone, Will."

"But did you?" Will counters. He's fairly sure that the three are the only ones in the vicinity, but after the man saw him so easily, Will doesn't want to take chances.

"There are only three of us here," the man confirms. "Now, down to business. I am the Renegade. I steal from the rich and I give to the poor. You consider me a criminal, those I help consider me a hero. I am going to die very soon, either by hanging or other means. These are the facts."

"'Other means'?" Will asks.

"An arrow to the back, a knife to the heart, beaten until I cannot move and then left to starve. It does not matter. It will be long and it will be painful," the Renegade says dismissively. "I have come to terms with this."

"Are you being threatened?" Will asks. This man's attitude is confusing him, which puts him on his guard.

"Sadly, I am not. If I was, this would be much easier to sort out. I would tell you who was threatening me, you would shoot them, and I would be given a prison sentence rather than a death sentence. As things stand, I am going to die. I am here to give you information."

"What kind?" Will asks suspiciously.

"These thefts are going to stop. There will be no more. Redmont was my last heist. I will take exactly four weeks to distribute the money and sort my affairs. Then I shall turn myself in."

"What?"

Will is beyond surprised, as is the Lady Sandra. She looks up at the Renegade, mouth agape.

"You heard me correctly. In four weeks I will be at Castle Araluen to face judgement for the crimes I have committed. That is all."

"Why?" Lady Sandra demands. "After all this time, that's it?"

"Four weeks, my Lady, and all your questions will be answered. I assume I will get a trial?" He directs this last question to Will.

Will considers it. "I'll do my best to make sure you do," he promises.

"Excellent. I shall take my leave, then. You can keep the gray cloak, my Lady, I shall have no further need for it. If I may take the black one, that would be greatly appreciated."

Sandra stands, and the man takes his cloak, pulling his mask over his face. He nods a thank you to Will and vanishes into the blackness.

Lady Sandra walks over to Will and he immediately grabs her arms to check she's okay, ignoring that he's breaching protocol. "Are you okay, Lady Sandra?"

"I'm fine, Will," she assures him, placing a gentle hand on his chest. "Not even a scratch. One of his men tried to rough me up when the took me, and he knocked him out. He's a little scary and extremely strong. He picked the unconscious man up and slung him over his shoulder with one arm. I have no idea where he is now."

"We have to get you back to Castle Redmont. Tug and another horse are just through the trees." Will urges her on, chivvying her out of the forest. She insists that she is perfectly capable of walking on her own, but Will refuses to back down.

"I'm getting you back as soon as possible, and then I need to talk to Arald," Will says grimly.

***

"You let him leave?" Arald yells. "After he raided my castle, kidnapped my wife, and dragged you out into a forest in the middle of the night, you let him go?"

Will nods. "I did. Getting Lady Sandra out was my priority. Also, I promised him a trial."

"You did what?" The Baron explodes. "Will, that man is responsible for countless thefts, break ins, and he kidnapped my wife! You had no right to let him go!"

"I knownwhat I'm doing," Will says stiffly. "I know you're angry, but something isn't right about that man. Just give it four weeks. I'll look around and see what I can find out about him, and if there's anything important I'll let you know. I need to talk to Gilan about all of this."

"You let him go because 'something wasn't right' about him?"

Will nods. "That's right. He seemed fairly resigned to dying, and I think he's made enemies of some dangerous men. There's a lot here that I don't understand." He sighs, frustrated, and runs a hand through his hair. "I need time."

"You've got four weeks," the Baron laughs half-heartedly. "Best get going then. Let me know if you find anything."

Will nods, debating whether or not to give Arald the letter. Arald deserves to know as much as possible, but the letter said not to tell him, and, like it as not, Will is sure that the threat carries on after the clandestine meeting he and the Renegade had.

He doesn't know, and that's what frustrates him. He's out of his depth, and although this isn't the first time, he's never felt this frustrated. He sighs and gets to his feet, leaving Arald to brood. It's time to see if anyone has any leads.

**Author's Note:**

> make a funny and/or heartfelt comment about this, and if I like it enough I'll write something for you of any pairing/rating excluding furries/mechas etc


End file.
